


No Salt Required

by theyhulk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Just Roll With It, Loki has a bucket, Post-Avengers (2012), Pranks, Pre-Slash, Tony is a good host, weird friendships, which is weird to have in a fic where Loki is throwing up slugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyhulk/pseuds/theyhulk
Summary: Tony doesn't like magic. It's weird, and as far as he's concerned, it cheats every rule he's tried so hard to bend.This doesn't make him like it any better, but he needed to mop his lab eventually.





	No Salt Required

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn't my intention that the first fic I post here involve Loki vomiting slugs.
> 
> Really. It wasn't.
> 
> It was fun, though. Ultimately, I regret nothing.
> 
> This takes place in some nebulous AU time thing after The Avengers where Loki’s busted out of prison and now just hangs out on earth, essentially doing whatever he wants. The usual.

When Tony headed down to his lab with an idea on how to incorporate iris scanners into his suits--he had _not_ been inspired by Apple, no matter _what_ Bruce said--he had not expected to see Loki, much less bent over with his hands on his knees. Loki, who was weirdly just as often a consultant as a pain in their collective asses, all dressed up with the tails of his coat still smoldering.

As Tony watched, his entire body spasmed and he gagged, a sound like a wet splatter following.

Oh, _no_. Tony was _not_ going to have a god vomiting on his floor. **“Jesus, Loki, what the hell?”** Setting his notes on the nearest surface that wasn’t entirely overflowing, he stepped forward only to freeze as Loki heaved again. Were those _slugs_? Tony burst out laughing before he could help himself, earning a glare that probably would have been more effective if Loki wasn’t a shade of pale green. **“What happened to you, Ron Weasley?”**

 **“You know I don’t know who that is,”** Loki muttered, his voice rough. His gaze dropped as his shoulders pitched forward, but he seemed to succeed in holding back another gastropod. The disgusted wince on his face a moment later as he swallowed confirmed Tony’s suspicions.

 **“This is a story I look forward to hearing, but hold tight. I’m gonna get you a bucket.”** Tony snagged one from the corner where Dum-E was working, and patted the robot when it bleated a greeting.

He made it back to Loki just in time for another heave, and Loki wrapped his fingers around the edges of the wastebasket, knuckles turning (more) white as his back bowed. Upon second glance, he looked like he was experiencing more than just an upset stomach. The shoulders and cuffs of his ridiculously complicated outfit were singed, and there was a nasty-looking cut above one eyebrow that had yet to close.

 **“Who did you piss off this time?”** Tony asked, and got an answer in the form of another weak glare. With a grimace, Loki settled on the stair behind him and combed lank hair out of his face.

 **“It would appear I have--”** His head dropped and he retched. Tony averted his eyes, feeling his own stomach flip uncomfortably at the sight of a mucosal string dangling from Loki’s lips. Judging by the _intensely_ disgusting sounds of slugs hitting the bottom of the can, he expelled a grand total of three before he looked up again, chest beginning to heave. **“--fallen from Amora’s good graces.”**

Now _that_ was an image. Tony had had his fair share of encounters with the self-proclaimed Enchantress and her propensity for wildly flinging spells that were downright _obnoxious._  Every other week, it seemed she had a new love spell she wanted Thor to be the guinea pig of, and didn’t care about the safety (or sanity) of those who got in her way. Her latest stunt had been to seduce multiple congressmen in an attempt to gain the property rights to an estate even _Tony_ thought was obscene. No _,_ he corrected himself, her latest stunt was to make Loki vomit slime. Tony hated her, but this he could appreciate. It was about time something caught up to the slick bastard. Was that a tasteless choice of words?

 **“Yeah, that tends to happen when you stab someone in the back.”** Tony smiled, raising his eyebrows. **“Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”**

 **“I didn’t see** **_this_ ** **coming, no.”** Loki scowled, fingers flexing on the rim of the wastebasket. **“And I didn’t stab her in the back. That would be duplicitous.”**

 **“Right, because you’re just a beacon of honesty.”** Tony averted his eyes as Loki’s head dipped between his shoulders and he made those awful, retching noises again. He wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist and made an annoyed, incoherent noise that Tony took to mean _shut up, Stark_. He could practically picture Loki saying it in that cultured, accented voice of his. The way he sounded now was a far cry from his usual level of sophistication. And so what if that made Tony feel a little holier-than-thou? Loki had totaled several of his suits in the past, single-handed. He was allowed to take a little pleasure in this.

 **“I didn’t stab her at all, Stark. That’s not the only thing I** **_do_** **.”**

Leaving less distance between them than was probably wise, Tony took a seat on the stair beside Loki. He hadn’t seen his workspace from such a low angle since the last time he’d experimented with his hand repulsors, which had landed him directly on his ass. He was less than proud that that had been only a couple of months ago. Some people did watercolor paintings or collected potted plants. Tony tinkered. **“Okay, so what did you do to her?”**

 _That_ earned him a smirk, even if it was a little wobbly. It split quickly into a grin as Loki held up the hand Tony hadn’t been able to see, and it took him a moment to recognize what the bundle of gold was. A quick glance confirmed that there were similar clumps of blonde strands around him, including several on the pauldrons of his armor.

 **“Is that her** **_hair_** **?”**

Loki gave the handful a shake, wearing a downright shit-eating grin. Tony burst out laughing and clapped Loki on the shoulder, hardly recognizing the strangeness of the gesture until he’d done it. Loki noticed immediately, the brightness in his eyes shuttering for a moment before it returned. An acceptable form of physical touch, then--from what Tony had seen, the guy wasn’t hugely fond of that kind of thing. That probably had something to do with Thor’s bone-crushing hugs or the fact that SHIELD had never respected his personal space when he’d been in their custody.

 **“I expect,”** Loki said, sounding entirely too proud of himself, **“This will make it significantly more difficult for her to seduce anyone.”**

Tony laughed again and this time Loki joined him, the sound odd at first, as though he’d nearly forgotten _how_ to laugh. And while that was pretty sad, it wasn’t sad enough to get the picture of Amora in a toupee out of his head. Loki’s laugh quickly became organic, the sound rich and delighted and full and very different than the usual cold, biting cackle he seemed to favor. Coupled with the glee writ large on Loki’s face, it made Tony wonder if maybe this was more like the Loki Thor talked about sometimes, when he’d been drinking or when it had been Loki’s help that secured another victory for the Avengers (though they were always hesitant to admit that, and Loki probably knew it.) He’d brag about Loki’s intellect, about how he always knew exactly what to do or say to get them out of some trouble that really could only belong in Norse mythology, because who but Thor would fight _orgres_? Or, more somberly, he would recall that there was once a time that Loki would smile freely, but that that time had long since passed and he wasn’t sure why.

Thinking about the way Thor’s face would fall when he talked about how Loki used to be while he was guffawing next to him made something uncomfortably close to guilt squirm in Tony’s guts, and it was a good deal harder to laugh after that. Loki himself cut off sharply as he retched again, and Tony took the liberty of holding a lock of his hair out of the way. The idea that he was _holding Loki’s hair back_ like they were bridesmaids and Loki had had too many white wine spritzers was so ridiculous Tony began to laugh again, and Loki joined him until the two were nearly weak from it.

The next time they were sent out to deal with Amora, she was, in fact, bald. Tony had laughed so hard he’d almost flown into a building.


End file.
